


the voice on the radio

by villainessy



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villainessy/pseuds/villainessy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>No one spoke so lovingly about Carlos before.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	the voice on the radio

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://kawaiisharkarts.tumblr.com/post/54979839719/in-which-cecil-has-a-very-attractive-voice-and-no) (nsfw) fanart; dedicated to [brittaperry](http://brittaperry.tumblr.com), my personal cheerleader  
> posted also on [tumblr](http://aggressiveeyerolling.tumblr.com/post/56866511999/write-something-every-day-challenge-7-29-7-30)

Carlos stared at the small radio he bought at _Claire’s Every Thing_ this evening. The old lady was kind enough to accept money as payment and didn’t even mention reporting him to Sheriff’s Secret Police for neglecting his weekly quota of shopping at her store. This evening was coincidentally also the first time Carlos learned about the existence of such requirements. Nevertheless, the joy of not being kidnapped to the Abandoned Mine was dimmed by the bigger issue. The radio. Part of Carlos wanted nothing else than to disembowel the thing and check every tiny screw and nail for any abnormalities, the other part was scared about the teeth and gel he might find inside. Carlos wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that even a purchase of a common device could be warped by this town into a peculiar occurrence, or that the simmering feel of resigned acceptance against the unexplainable was slowly making itself at home in his mind.

The radio did look normal, inconspicuous and comfortingly mundane on the empty counter of his living room’s table. He touched the knob, skimmed his fingers over the volume panel, and in a spurt of bravery, turned the device on. His room filled with ear-bashing noise. He winced and switched the knob back and forth, hoping for any station to pop up on the radar, but the box didn’t respond with anything but noise and occasional muffled screaming until finally, _finally_ , the humming cut off and Carlos heard a voice.

It was a nice voice. Deep and rich, seeping into Carlos’ head with vague familiarity he could not pin down.

"And now, the message from our sponsors," the Voice announced, its tone changing, lowering into daunting and grim. Carlos’ eyebrows furrowed.

“ _Summer at last, you say, stretching on the colorful blanket you flattened against the ground. Your pale limbs soak the sun hungrily after months of darkness. You pant, eyes squinting at the hot red ball hanging in the sky above, and you try to wet your chapped lips just to find your throat dry and aching. Heat. Heat. Heat bleeds into your body, trickles down your chest and thighs and drains into the skin along your muscles until you slowly start to feel yourself melting. You sink through the blanket, through grass, and bore into the ground beneath.The pieces of you are then quickly taken apart and they decay, leaking into water running underground the city. You’re moved to gardens and playgrounds and you climb into trees. You are Night Vale and Night Vale is you._

 _This message was brought to you by Volkswagen,_ " the Voice adds matter-of-factly and Carlos can’t help the laugh that escapes him at the absurdity of this advertisement, although he’s more shocked by how unsurprising he found it than by anything else. He shakes his head and stands up to turn the radio off, his mind already revising the papers he was supposed to look into. His fingers grab the knob and-

 _"Aaaalright, Listeners, that would be all of announcements for today,"_ the Voice says, all of sudden chipper and high, but still recognizable. _"Oh… Wait… Yeah, I was supposed to read this notice about ban on pests and insects. I’ll go right to that, but first, oh, first, I just have to share this with someone. I saw ❤♥CARLOS♥❤ today."_

Carlos plumped back on his chair, staring at the radio like it grew horns (which he assumed might be an actual possibility).

 _"Oh, Carlos… Beautiful, perfect Carlos was working on a very important experiment when I stopped by his lab. Of course, I had a good reason to be there, I mean, I’m not the kind of guy who just drops in to say hello and steal a glance of their beloved without… You know, nevermind that,"_ the Voice murmured in embarrassment, but Carlos was pretty sure it didn’t match his own. They did, in fact, have a visitor today at the laboratory, but he barely paid the guy any attention. Besides, he was there so shortly, Carlos had trouble remembering anything specific about his appearance.

 _"I was standing there, watching him work, tracking his flawless silhouette as it moved gracefully in the labyrinth of tables and weird science equipment…,"_ The Voice on the radio continued, fluster creeping into its tone.

Carlos felt his cheeks heat up. He was… graceful? No one ever used that word to describe him and Carlos was pretty sure there was a good reason for that. He could stumble on an even ground, seriously.

 _"Oh, if you could only *see* that, Listeners,"_ the man gushed, cutting off Carlos’ thoughts.

_"He was *so beautiful*, my heart aches at the mere thought."_

Carlos bit his lip. This was… _god_. The Voice listed compliments one after the other, and they were all _praising him, cherishing_ his every feature. He hid his face in his hands, roughly shoving his glasses up his forehead at the sudden realization that this station broadcasted over the whole town and that everyone who was listening was the witness to this peculiar love letter send to him by a man who’s name he didn’t even remember.

_"The sun shone through the glass ceiling of the room, coating Carlos’ Perfect Hair in an aureole Old Woman Josie’s angel friends could only dream of."_

_Everyone could hear *that*,_ the thought hit him again and he worried at his lip. _Oh my god, were they laughing at him right now? They must be. No one would take him seriously again._

But the voice was as sincere as it was adamant, detailing Carlos’ appearance with unadulterated joy and without a shred of reservation, as if there was simply no other way to go about it, as if ‘perfect’ and ‘beautiful’ were the go-to adjectives to describe him. Carlos let out a shuddering breath, feeling his cock begin to harden. He pressed his palms against his cheeks, still red, still so hot with embarrassment, he could pass as having a fever. 

_"Sweet, perfect, beautiful Carlos…,"_ The Voice continued  indefatigably, pausing only for the soft sigh. _"I greeted him… He smiled in return and everything about him was *perfect*."_  


Now, Carlos liked to think he was a man of self control, (it was important for a scientist to be able to resist temptations and distractions during long hours spent on making calculations and supervising machineries), but the next moment his hands were fumbling with the buckle on his belt. He gripped himself through boxers and pushed the pants down his thighs. He glanced over his shoulder at the window to make sure the curtains were closed, because he would not be able to bear the shame of someone were to oversee this. _  
_

_"You see, Listeners… I think a smile can make or break a person. I mean, let’s say I suddenly come up to you with all my teeth on display and gurgling low in my throat_ __as saliva drips down my chin_. You would be perturbed, right? I mean, I can’t just do that without any warning whatsoever. It’s not polite."  
_

Carlos snorted. He stroked himself slowly, looking expectantly at the device on his table, a part of his mind already hurrying to point out how ridiculous this whole situation was. But then The Voice spoke again, making his breath catch in his throat. _  
_

_"But Carlos… Carlos’ smile is, of course, amazing as everything about him. It was a perfect balance of teeth and lips, and, oh dare I disclose it, Listeners, *dimples*."_ The Man on The Radio sighed again. Carlos let go of the comforter to touch his left cheek in search of indentation. _“I_ __think it’s only fair to say,"__ TheVoice added, " _that Carlos looks absolutely *adorable* when he’s smiling._ ”  


Carlos bit into the fingers brushing his face to muffle his moan. It was crazy, and ridiculous and completely _illogical_ , how much the words were affecting him. Carlos felt loved before. Carlos felt desired. But this… this made him feel worshiped, treasured, _adored_. Was it selfish to get off on that? Probably. Could he stop himself from imagining the man whispering all those things directly to his ear? Definitely not. Carlos let out a harsh breath, leaning over the table as he picked up the pace, jerking himself off to the sweet ramblings of a stranger who was infatuated with him. The Voice changed in tone and volume, words became softer, milder, purring from the speaker as if their author knew exactly what Carlos needed from him right now.  


_"You know, I think the thing I love about Carlos the most -aside from his Perfect Hair of course, that’s unquestionable number one-, is just… how brave and kind he is, and how much he’s willing to sacrifice for our little community. I mean, who can stay unimpressed when faced with passion of such veracity? Who’s heart doesn’t race when they think of this man’s dedication to keeping us all safe with the use of science? I am calling you now, Night Vale, to take a moment and pause your busy lives the next time you see Carlos the Scientist. Think about our greatest newcomer and local celebrity. Think about his hair if you wish, the luxurious curls cascading down his back, think how happy you are that the damage done by the traitorous Telly The Barber is finally fixed. Think about his eyes, so open and honest, about his undoubtedly soft skin and those pink, lush lips."  
_

Carlos groaned, leaning over the table until his forehead almost touched the counter. He rocked on the chair, fucking his fist and panting as if he was running the marathon. He used the other hand to muffle his breathing and moans, to be able to still hear the radio, but it didn’t even matter anymore, the words melted into one, soft spoken hum of affection. Carlos was no longer in his cheap, empty apartment, he was pressed against a bed, he was kissed and teased and coaxed in murmured, loving words. 

He dropped over the table, spent and sated, his bearings returning to catch the end of the program. 

_"…ight, Night Nale. Goodnight. Don’t forget to dream."_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] the voice on the radio](https://archiveofourown.org/works/941940) by [Readbyanalise010](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readbyanalise010/pseuds/Readbyanalise010)




End file.
